A Bleak and Gloomy Sun
by TalysAlankil
Summary: Nico is used to ghosts, as a son of Hades working as a medium. But even being used to ghosts doesn't mean finding one in your apartment, while you're showering, is a pleasant experience.
1. Chapter 1

Being the son of Hades meant Nico was used to ghosts barging in on him at awkward times. He wasn't nicknamed the Ghost Prince for nothing, after all. But still, every time another one showed up, he couldn't help but wonder why he couldn't have traded with Bianca. She could _banish_ the restless dead instead of attracting them to her. Or he could have at least inherited Hazel's geokinesis. Either ability would have been preferable.

He never wished that as badly as when a ghost showed up in his own home. In his bathroom, to be exact. When he was showering.

To be fair to the ghosts, Nico was expecting him. He'd just moved in, and picked the apartment because the rent was impossibly low. It hadn't taken long to find out about a previous tenant's mysterious and gruesome death, one month before. Which, upon further inspection, had looked suspiciously supernatural. It had been part of the appeal of choosing this apartment, really.

But there was a difference between expecting a ghost and bumping into him—or, well, _through_ him—on the way out of the shower. In surprise, Nico tripped and face-planted into the tiles. At least he hadn't knocked himself unconscious in the process, but his nose was bleeding when he stumbled back on his feet and groped for a towel. Holding it with one hand as the other tried to stop the bleeding was particularly awkward.

"Ow. Did no one teach you ghost etiquette? Melinoe will hear me." It was pure bluff—Nico would never come close to Melinoe if he could avoid it—but he liked to pretend he was closer to the gods as he really was when dealing with a new ghost.

It didn't seem to faze this one, though. "Sorry. Couldn't resist taking a peek."

Nico felt himself blush, which wouldn't help with his attempts at building a 'tough guy' façade. "Well, hope you've enjoyed it. Now, get out."

The ghost didn't move or fade, and only grinned at Nico, who looked him up and down, curious. He was in his early twenties, about the same age as Nico, maybe a year older or so. He was taller than Nico, one of those guys Nico would have complained about being 'freakishly tall' before he'd hit an unexpectedly late growth spurt a couple of years ago—and even now, the ghost still had a few inches on him. His body was all in lean, strong lines, and his skin was tanned, the kind that showed he spent a lot of time outside in the sun, and his hair would have been golden if he hadn't been the faded colors of a ghost—that was something Nico had learned to guess with experience, a ghost's real colors.

Speaking of colors, his clothes were too bright for Nico's taste, even faded as they were. He only wore a too-short yellow t-shit that didn't even reach down to his navel, with an inscription that read 'Daddy's favorite haiku', and azure blue—no, bright cyan—swimming trunks that hung low and loosely on his hips and reached almost to his knees.

The inscription in particular was what woke Nico's suspicion, but before he could voice them, the ghost spoke. "Like what you see?"

Nico scoffed. "I'm too blinded by the colors to notice anything else." Not entirely true, of course. "You have _terrible_ fashion sense. And speaking of which, are you _ever_ going to let me get dressed?" He was still awfully conscious of only having a towel held with one hand to cover himself.

"Sure. But we have to talk." He vanished before Nico could retort anything.

* * *

><p>Their next encounter happened at night that day, while Nico was huddled up on his couch, mindlessly watching some awful talk show on TV to pass the time. Something that happened way too often of late, but that was the only way he'd found of getting his mind off the most upsetting parts of his job as a medium. Having to tell someone that their departed daughter only regretted not killing the rest of her family in the fire was not the easiest thing to live through, especially when he had to deal with their reaction all while sending the ghost on her way to the Underworld. But hey, that was a rare occurrence. All jobs had their ups and downs, Nico guessed.<p>

In his daze, it took him a while to register the ghost sitting next to him, and he started when he did. It was the same boy who had shown up in his bathroom, and he seemed absorbed in the television program—but his smirk and the insistence with which he _didn't_ look at Nico was enough to know it was just pretend.

"You could warn me when you're there," Nico said. Normally he was aware of ghosts around him as clearly as he was of his own limbs, but this one had eluded him both times. His pride would suffer from the admission, but he'd rather set boundaries as fast as possible. "What do you want?"

The ghost flashed a radiant smile and finally turned to Nico. "Has anyone told you you had terrible manners?"

"Says the guy who snuck up on me in the shower."

"_Touché_. Although it wasn't completely intentional. I died there, you see." His smile wavered at the word 'died', although the seriousness clashed with his clothes, the same from before. "Usually people introduce each other when they first meet."

"Usually, people freak out when they see a ghost and call an exorcist." Like Bianca, for instance. Or Nico, if Bianca was busy and she thought the ghost could be reasoned with. "As I said, what do you want?"

The ghost ignored his question. "I'm Will Solace. I used to live here until a month ago, when I died. Aren't you curious to find out how? Let's make a trade. You tell me why you're not freaked out by me, and I'll tell you."

Nico stared at him. "Don't pretend. You're like me. A demigod." With a pointed look at the shirt's inscription, he added, "Son of Apollo, if I were to guess. Or one of his groupie, maybe." He wasn't sure which option was worse.

Will's expression was one of surprise, though. "But… I know all of my half-siblings. You can't— and what do you mean, 'son of Apollo'? Is there—"

Nico mentally cursed the policy of isolationism some of the Olympians had opted for. "It never occurred to you some of your dad's relatives might be just as real and active as he was?" Nico hadn't met many demigods except for his own siblings, like most demigods, but at least his father had told him they were _out there_.

"I—thought about it. So—who's your…parent?"

"Hades."

"Yeesh. Okay, I get why ghosts don't scare you, then."

_You have no idea_ was on the tip of Nico's tongue, but he wasn't interested enough in the guy to risk having to bring up the worst parts of his job. So, instead, he repeated, "What do you want, Will Solace?"

"I—don't know, actually. It's the first time someone asks me since I'm dead."

"You said we had to talk."

Will froze, and his gaze grew distant. "I— yeah, I did say that! It's not safe here, you should—"

"Leave?"

"No, I was just going to say 'be careful'."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I—can't."

Nico sighed. A month had passed already—of course some of Will's memories would be scrambled at this point. Lots of ghosts forgot about their own deaths as a coping mechanism, unless they were trying to avenge it. "Okay. Well, thanks for the warning, I guess." He'd thought his tone was unequivocal, but Will didn't seem to understand the underlying 'please leave'.

"You're welcome. So… do you really like this thing?" he asked, nodding at the television.

"No. But I do like my privacy."

Will turned to stare at him in surprise mixed with hurt, and dissolved into mist.


	2. Chapter 2

Nico told Hazel about the ghost haunting his apartment the next day when they met in a café. She'd just come back home in New Orleans after an archaeological expedition, and already someone had contracted her to help with expanding some city's subway all the way in Europe, so they only had a few days together. There was always work for demigods and their particular talent. As long as they stuck to their father's network of clients, they could do it and keep a low profile. It was always better than getting a regular job and trying to be human all the time. With the risk of monster attacks, that rarely ended well.

"Another demigod?" Hazel let out. "Shame that he's dead. I always wondered what they would be like."

"You could still talk to him. I don't know why you'd want to, but if you're curious. I'm sure he wouldn't mind." By that, of course, Nico meant Will didn't have much of a choice. It was his apartment, haunted or not, and he'd bring his sister home if he wanted to.

"I'll think about it. It could be fun. Do you think he'd give away some of Apollo's secrets?" Noticing Nico's dubious expression, she chuckled. "Yeah, probably not. I wouldn't do it to Dad either. Still, do you think it's a coincidence he lived in New Orleans?"

The city was one of the places where Hades's demigod kids were raised and trained for most of their lives. Nico _had_ wondered himself if Will had ended up here by accident—he knew _he_ wouldn't have gone in another god's territory. "Could be. He didn't seem to know about the other Olympians at all."

"What if his dad was plotting something? Send him in as an unwitting spy?"

Nico shrugged. "The less involved I am with it, the better. Let the Olympians play their game of politics."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Hazel sighed, her gaze lost in the distance. The last time they'd gotten involved in Olympian politics, Nico and Bianca's mother had died. Abruptly, she turned back to Nico, a wide grin on her face. "So you were naked when you first met him? Do you think that was intentional?"

"He said he 'couldn't resist taking a peek'," Nico blurted out, before he realized the implications of it.

Hazel giggled like a schoolgirl, but her smile had no innocence to it. "You made an impression, then. Is he hot?"

"He's a _ghost_."

"If ghosts can become corporeal enough to take revenge on their murderer, I'm sure he could—"

"Hazel!" Nico's cheeks felt like they were on fire.

She laughed again. "Sorry. But judging by your face, I'm sure you've _thought_ of it."

Nico groaned. "He _is_ hot. Although he has terrible fashion sense. And, as I said, _he's a ghost_. I'm not _that_ desperate for a boyfriend."

"So what are you going to do about him?"

Nico shrugged. "My job, I guess. Find out why he's still there, and make sure he doesn't stay. I'll just have to do it for myself instead of a client. He doesn't remember how he died. I'm sure if I figure it out, he'll be gone."

"Okay. Need a hand with it? Bianca's still in LA, isn't she? I can help, if you want."

"I'll be fine. But if you want to come over and meet him, my offer still stands."

"Maybe tomorrow," Hazel said, rubbing her temples. "I'm still jet-lagged. I really wanted to see you, but as soon as we're done here I'm going straight to bed."

Nico couldn't help but mentally face-palm at his lack of empathy towards her. "I'm so sorry I didn't think about it. And we barely even talked about your trip!"

Hazel scoffed. "Trust me, prehistoric caverns aren't all they're cracked up to be, once you've seen dozens of them. This was much more entertaining." She raised a suggestive eyebrow as she stood up, but her smile was candid, devoid of teasing. "Come on, big brother, let's go."

* * *

><p>If Hazel was going straight to bed, Nico couldn't say the same. He'd had an entire afternoon to go through first, serving as intermediate between a deceased father and his beloved—and numerous—children. They were from several different mothers, and none of them agreed on the way to interpret his will, so they'd called Nico for help. Why anyone trusted his word was beyond him, but they did. He didn't like the way the ghost had spoken of his mistresses, and he may have taken some liberties with the man's instructions for the sake of fairness, but in the end he was happy with his work, if exhausted.<p>

So when he came back home to the smell of boiling frying oil and aromatic herbs, he was torn between panicking and being too tired to bother. He summoned his sword from the shadows cast by his entrance door, and walked towards the kitchen…only to be greeted by a smiling Will.

His smile vanished quickly at the sight of the blade, though. "Is that really necessary?" Will had found an apron somewhere, unless he'd conjured it, since ghosts could change clothes at will, even if few of them knew it. For a brief moment, Nico had the impression that he was naked underneath, but he was still wearing the same swimming trunks as they day before—although his t-shirt was nowhere in sight.

"I could ask you the same," Nico said, slowly sheathing the sword. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Making dinner? I thought that was obvious."

"Okay, let me rephrase that. Why are you doing this? Ghosts don't it. Ghosts _can't_ eat." Even when they got corporeal, Nico had never seen a ghost manage to do something as inherently tied to life as eating. Food just fell through their jaws, every single time.

"Yeah, I found that out earlier today. Sorry about your sofa, by the way." Nico cast a glance behind him, but of course the sofa was out of sight—and it was probably for the best. "Anyway, I'm doing this for you. I thought it'd be nice. I'm squatting here, after all."

The sizzling of fat intensified behind him, and Will turned brusquely to take care of whatever was in the pan—Nico couldn't see it. This suddenly made Nico realize that Will wasn't just corporeal enough to cook, he was _opaque_. He stared in shock, and of course his brain lingered on the lean muscles of his back, like a surfer's. Knowing Apollo, his son might very well _be_ a surfer. And, hideously bright as they were, Nico had to concede the swimming trunks clung very nicely to the shape of his—

"Oh! by the way," Will said, turning around and interrupting Nico's stream of less-than-respectable thoughts, "how do you like your steak?"

Nico blinked and stared in confused silence.

"You know, how do you like it cooked."

"Oh. Um. Whatever, I guess." Seeing Will's insistent look, he forced his brain to start working again. "Well done?"

Will had a disapproving grimace, but nodded. "You got it. How about you just go relax? It'll only be a few minutes."

Nico opened his mouth to retort, but Will turned back to the stove again, and…well, Nico would _not_ stare at his back again. So he exited the kitchen, hovering towards the television. He couldn't exactly relax, though—not after seeing the dried-up mess of milk and cereals that cluttered his sofa. At least it wasn't the couch he sat on most of the time, but still.

"If he can cook, why couldn't he clean up?" he grumbled as he picked most of it up in a paper towel to throw it away. The stains would be harder to get rid of—might be irrecuperable. And it gave off a faint scent of milk, which would probably get worse over time. Maybe he should just dispose of it before it did.

But he couldn't do it immediately, of course, since Will came out of the kitchen. "Come on, dinner's ready!"

Frustrated sigh aside, Nico was hungry and it had been a while since he hadn't eaten anything that wasn't take-out or microwaveable. He couldn't resist the steak and homemade fries—even the smell of them was appetizing enough. Although he had to wonder where and how Will had gotten his ingredients. But that could wait.

Will sat across from him at his small table, observing Nico as he ate. There was something a little off-putting about it—and it was a little too _Twilight_ for Nico's taste—but the food _was_ really good, and he found he was starving.

"Do you like it? I picked that up from my mom. I doubt dad thinks cooking is cool enough for us to know. I'm told I'm really great at it."

In spite of the boat, there was an uncertainty to his voice, and that more than anything got Nico to answer honestly. "It's delicious. Well…it was."

"Thanks." Will smirked. "So… now will you tell me your name?" Nico frowned, and he added, "You never told me."

Second mental face-palm of the day. "I didn't mean to. Usually I try to learn about the ghosts I deal with so I can send them—they aren't interested in me. It's Nico. Nico di Angelo."

"Lovely name. Italian?"

Nico smirked. "Somewhere high up in the family tree, yes, probably. Not for generations."

Will nodded thoughtfully—although why, Nico wasn't sure. "So when you say you send ghosts back—"

"It's my job. Well, sort of—it's part of it. I'm a medium."

Will's impressed look felt out of place, but it looked genuine. "Cool. I'm starting to see why you weren't that freaked out by me." After a pause, he added, "Does that mean you'll send me too? And…where?"

"The Underworld. Where you should be. And—yes." Nico wasn't sure why he hesitated.

"How?"

"I find out why you're still here. Solve your unfinished business, pass on your last words. That sort of thing." Seeing how present Will was, Nico doubted it would be anything that simple, but the principle was the same.

"Oh. I see. I just—"

"You're not sure you want to be sent to the Underworld."

Will looked up, surprised. "How do you—"

"Nobody wants to," Nico said with a shrug.

"Of course. Well…how do we start?"

"You wait for me to have a day off. I'm not dealing with more than one ghost per day."

"Why? Do you have a quota, or a limitation, or something?"

Nico stared at him. "No, I'm just _tired_ after dealing with a ghost."

Will grimaced. "Sorry."

"I didn't mean—" Nico paused, frustrated. "Talking to ghosts is fine. It's not like that requires any use of my powers. But when you have to basically fix a ghost's entire life, and preferably in a limited time, with them yapping at you that you're not doing it just right—you get the idea. And sometimes I have to help them on the way to the Underworld. _That_ takes a lot of power."

He was surprised to see that Will had held on to his every word, and smiled when he was done. "Okay. No fixing my life tonight, then. How about we just hang out? We could do something! Do you like video games? I hope I can still play."

Nico raised his eyebrows, in equal parts surprised and skeptical. Will wanted to _hang out_? If his biggest regret in life was not experiencing a 'true bromance', this was _not_ a sending Nico looked forward to. "I guess I owe you for making dinner. And yes, I like video games. Who doesn't?" It might even be better than a mindless talk show.


	3. Chapter 3

"Your life is kind of empty," was Will's way of greeting Nico the next morning.

Nico was already grumpy at being woken up by a client calling him, and this wasn't improving his mood. "I beg you pardon?"

"No need to beg," Will teased. "I may have Facebook-stalked you. Which is kind of your own fault for leaving your laptop logged in without any protection."

Annoyance was slowly giving way to anger. "There's usually no one to go through my laptop in my sleep. And don't blame _me_ because you couldn't respect boundaries."

"Yeah, but that's my point. There's _no one_ who comes here. Ever. It's sad."

"My sisters visit me all the time. And I'm sorry my life doesn't meet your standards of quality. I like it as it is."

"Do you?"

His question may have been rhetorical, but it gave Nico pause. Did he like his life? It was comfortable, with more than enough excitement. "I guess."

"You've never wanted for someone to share it with?"

Great, the ghost was starting to sound like Hazel now. "If you find a guy who wants to date a medium, be sure to let me know." He wasn't sure why he'd let out the implication that he was gay—maybe as an attempt to shock Will?

It failed miserably. "I would date a medium. And I would tap that ass, too. I've seen it, remember?"

His grin was met with Nico's glare, which quickly turned into a full-blown, patented Death Kid Glare. It was only when Will stumbled backwards through the stained sofa that Nico stopped. "Don't remind me of that."

"Too forward? Sorry. I mean, I'm dead, I'm not expecting— I was just trying to boost your ego." Will's puppy dog eyes were a little too irresistible for Nico's good.

"I don't need an 'ego boost'. I need my apartment to myself. And I can't, because there's a ghost I can't deal with until I have a day off, and I can't just _take_ one because I am still a member of the living who needs to _make_ a living."

"What, your dad doesn't provide? Isn't he also the god of wealth?"

Nico paused in his rambling. Hazel had suggested to use her powers to give Bianca and Nico a source of income, but he'd always refused it before. He'd never even _considered_ asking his dad. Maybe it was foolish of him—but having that foolishness pointed out to him by this ghost was the last thing Nico wanted right now. "That is none of your concern."

"It's just—Apollo used to help us financially. Sorry if I struck a nerve. Or how about your mom?"

That was one thing too many for Nico to bear. "How about you don't speak to me? Preferably ever again? Find your own way to the Underworld. Most people do."

* * *

><p>He came home early, this time. Helping young children was always heartbreaking—because, well, they were small children—but it also tended to be an easier job. They needed guidance, not convincing. The boy he'd sent to the other side this time had reminded him so much of himself at the same age he'd almost burst into tears. Especially when his little sister asked him if he was her brother from the future.<p>

That was hardly a worthy price to pay for coming home by noon on a normal day. And it definitely _wasn't_ when coming home meant having to deal with _another_ ghost. He wondered what Will had been up to this time.

But there was nothing. No disaster waiting for Nico to clean up, no sarcasm. No dinner cooking, either. Nico still didn't know where Will had gotten the ingredients the night before—or how he'd known when to start cooking.

In fact, there was no trace of Will himself. Had he really found his way to the other side? Nico knew he had the ability to force a ghost to move on—and, on one occasion, he'd even forced a living person's spirit to go straight to the Underworld—but it drained him more than any of his other talents.

Well, whatever it was, Will was seemingly gone. It was odd, considering how strong his presence had been in the world of the living, but not to the point where Nico would dwell on it. He was a demigod—odd was nothing out of the ordinary to him. Sometimes he wondered if the supernatural world really had any defined rules at all.

* * *

><p>The rest of the week was unusually busy. On top of his job, which took at least half of each day, meeting Hazel while he could, Nico suddenly had to deal with three monster attacks in the span of a few days. None of them had even targeted him or Hazel directly, which was odd enough as it was; they'd always been surprised to find demigods fighting back.<p>

Five of the ghosts he had to work with were actually victims of two of those monsters—the third had just arrived in New Orleans when Nico found it, and Nico doubted it had killed anyone yet. Even more surprising, two of those victims were demigods—just like Will. Hazel, who had never gotten the opportunity to speak to Will after his disappearance, was delighted to come as quickly as possible when Nico met the second one, a girl named Drew Tanaka, a daughter of Aphrodite. The girl did little to appease their curiosity, though, and moved on relatively quickly—which was even weirder, considering the trouble Nico usually had to go through.

Those demigods couldn't be a coincidence, though. Three, from three different parents, coming to New Orleans, one of Hades's stronghold, in the span of a week? And they all died, too? There had to be _something_ here.

Bianca came back at the end of the week—a couple days too late to see Hazel and complete their small family, but still good to have around. Nico wasted no time and immediately told her about the demigods and the influx of monsters.

"That's why I came home early," she said.

"So you know what's going on?"

"Not exactly. But something _is_ going on, that much is certain. There's no more monsters in Los Angeles, they all…_left_. It's like they're focusing on a single place."

"What, they're laying siege to New Orleans?"

"Possibly, yes. Each of Hades's stronghold has a door to the Underworld, right? Maybe someone is directing them to take control of a door."

"And you think the other gods are sending their kids to stop them? Because none of the three I met seemed to know anything. Apollo's son didn't even know about other _gods_. And I hope Dad would have warned me if my home city was attacked."

Bianca sighed. "I don't know. Maybe it's more of an instinctual thing, like they're drawn to the monsters in the area? There's so much we don't know. But something's happening, and I'm sure we can deal with it together."

"Yeah." With Bianca by his side, Nico felt confident he could deal with anything. "You're right."

* * *

><p>He came home unusually late that night, after spending the entire evening with Bianca. He missed his sister more than he could ever tell her, so staying with her was the least he could do. But her apartment didn't have room for the two of them—any more than his did—and Nico wasn't keen on sleeping on the couch, especially if there was going to be more and more monsters to deal with.<p>

Half-dazed with sleep already, he made a beeline to the kitchen to grab a bite—some of those industrial cakes that were objectively terrible but so convenient when he was hungry and tired, which was often—then straight to the bathroom before heading to bed.

He was barely done with brushing his teeth when a faint clicking came from outside the door, followed by a voice calling out. "Look out!"

Before a more precise warning could follow, the door was torn off its hinges and thrown straight at Nico, sending him flying against the wall. Stunned, he still managed to push the door off himself, and take in the sight of its attacker: a giant spider, one of Arachne's children.

Nico wouldn't be able to fight off the monster without some serious advantage, especially since he was unarmed and tired. He scrambled to his feet and jumped on the sink as the monster struggled with the small doorframe; just as it was in the room, Nico managed to tear the lamp off the ceiling, plunging the room in the dark. Nico had no idea if spiders could see in the dark, but he didn't care—shadows were _his_ realm. He heard the spider coming towards him, but before it could reach him, Nico had already vanished.

He reformed in his living room, crouching behind the couch, his sword materializing in his hand from the shadows. He'd arranged the furniture to make sure there were always a few shadows in the place, no matter if it was day outside or if he turned on all the lights—something he was rather proud of, and now, very grateful for.

The source of the voice who had alerted him was nowhere to be seen, but Nico couldn't worry about that right now. The spider was already out of the bathroom, and it leaped at him at blinding speed. Nico was forced to shadow-walk again, reappearing behind the kitchen counter. Maybe the smart move would be to appear at Bianca's place, but she was probably asleep, and leaving would mean letting the monster go after other people—mortals. He couldn't do that.

From his position, he easily reached the switch to turn off all the lights in his apartment, giving him a greater freedom of movement. The noise immediately alerted the monster, but Nico was ready now, and as the spider leaped into the air, Nico vanished again, re-forming in the air right below the monster. He landed on the spider's abdomen, sword first, and it tore into the flesh with a disgusting yet satisfying sound. He jumped off immediately, hacking to both sides and cutting off two of its legs from the back. He knew it wouldn't do much to stop the creature, but he'd take any advantage he could.

The monster reared back, and turned around in record speed, way too close for comfort—Nico could see faint light reflecting off its eight eyes. It lunged forward, and Nico couldn't shadow-travel on time before the creature laid a leg on him, pinning him down with unfair ease. Nico hacked at the limb, rolled to avoid the spider's stinger coming down, and vanished once again in the shadows. He appeared right next to it, and hacked the three remaining legs on that side.

Finally, the spider stumbled and fell, but even then, it tried to drag itself with its remaining two legs, pushing and pulling to move across the floor. Nico stabbed it through the head, and then, for good measure, dragged its blade through the spider's abdomen, cutting it lengthwise. It thrashed for a few more seconds, before finally vanishing in golden particles of dust.

Panting, Nico stood still for a moment. He'd shadow-stepped… three, four times? Five? He'd lost count. Even on short distances, this was _way_ too much, especially in his current state. The sword clattered as it fell to the floor, but Nico wasn't aware of letting go. Moments later, he fell to the floor as well, landing on his back and hitting his head.

Semi-conscious, he thought he saw a face staring at him—blurred, with blue eyes and golden hair, vaguely familiar. Sound reached him, but his brain couldn't process the words. He tried to push himself off the floor, but his hand couldn't find the ground—they just passed through it. "'M fading," he muttered, unsure if there really was someone or if he was imagining it.

Consciousness slipped from Nico, and the shadows closed around him.


	4. Chapter 4

"Come back, come back, come back…"

The words were looping in Nico's ears, and it took him a while to realize it was someone saying them, over and over, in a worried tone, almost pleading. Light hit his closed eyelids—sunlight, judging by the warmth that came with it—and the voice kept going. Someone was holding his hands, a little too tightly—almost painfully so.

"Ow," he said, more as a reflex than anything. He tried opening his eyes, but the light blinded him, adding to the overall pain he felt, and he closed them shut again.

"You're awake!"

Nico recognized the voice at last. It had belonged to a ghost Nico had thought was gone, but he'd heard it again when the spider attacked.

That thought brought back memories, and with them, curiosity. "I should be dead," he said. He'd felt he was fading, and known what it meant. He'd drawn too strongly on the Underworld's power, and was returning to it. Dying—fading. Bianca and Hazel wouldn't even have known he was gone until they tried to call on his shade.

But there was no sunlight to sear people's eyes in the Underworld, so obviously that hadn't happened. He forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly to accommodate to the light.

"Hi there." There was a half-smile on Will's face, concern, worry and relief mixed together. There was also something else, something Nico couldn't quite place—the ghost was jittery, and in spite of his hands still clutching to Nico's, he seemed to be trying to keep away.

Nico was lying on his couch; he took his time sitting up and settling comfortably. Will seemed unwilling to let go of his hands, so it was a little more difficult than it should be, but Nico couldn't bring himself to ask him to let go. The contact was comforting, anchoring him to life—which was probably odd considering Will was a ghost. "What happened?" he finally said.

"The spider was what killed me, I think. It came back for you, and— well, you already know what happened. Dude, that was amazing—"

"Yeah, I know all that. But then what? I was _fading_."

"I _know_. That was _scary_. But I've always been a good healer. You could say it's my one talent. And I think holding you worked too, somehow?"

It_ was_ working, as far as Nico could feel. Which was a little weird to think about, since Will was a ghost. "Thanks."

Will's smile grew less hesitant. "You're welcome. Although you shouldn't use those fancy powers for a while. Doctor's orders." He took a deep breath, then added, "You and I, we kind of started on the wrong foot, didn't we? I'm sorry. I've been an arrogant jerk."

"Arrogance kind of runs in the family, I think. I've met your dad, once, you know."

Surprisingly, Will didn't take Nico's bait; instead, he had a hopeful look at Nico's words. "Can we start over?"

Nico smiled back at him. "I'd love to."

Will held out a hand. "I'm Will. I died here, and you avenged me last night. Mind if I haunt the place for a while? I can't pay rent, but if I can bring you back from the brink of death again, it'll be my pleasure." With a grimace, he added, "Not that I _want_ you to nearly die, of course. Man, this is awkward."

Nico couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Nice to meet you. I deal with ghosts all the time, which makes me tired and a little grumpy _most_ of the time. Also—" he looked down at himself, "I'm covered in monster blood right now. Do you mind if I go get a shower and get changed? _Without_ barging in on me?"

"I'm not making any promises. I mean, there is no door."

Nico glared at him, but there was a spark in Will's eyes—one that inspired trust. One that Nico was hoping he identified properly.

* * *

><p>Nico emerged from the bathroom feeling somewhat refreshed, but at least he was clean now, and wearing fresh clothes. Will looked at him expectantly from the couch.<p>

"You look human again."

Nico ignored the quip. "There's something I don't get," Nico started. "Where were you the past week?"

Will's expression grew regretful. "I thought you didn't want to see me anymore." So it had been intentional, then. The fact that he could become invisible to Nico's perception was nothing new, but the ability kept surprising him nonetheless. Maybe it was a demigod thing; the other two had also been difficult for Nico to sense.

"So that spider is what killed you?"

"Yeah. The memory came back when I saw it. You should go check the attic in this house—I think that's where it came from. I hope she doesn't have a nest."

"I will. But—I don't understand." Will stared at him, intrigued, and Nico continued. "Since you couldn't remember how you died exactly, I thought that was your unfinished business. It happens a lot. But now I killed the spider, and you're still here. So…what is it, then?"

An uncomfortable grimace hovered over his face, and he seemed to squirm, though not physically; it was as if his essence was wavering away from the visible realm. "Well…"

"Well what? What is it?"

"There was a…kind of a gateway. After the spider died. It wasn't a literal door, but, you know, a passage I could _sense_ more than see. But you were dying, I couldn't leave you there."

Nico stared at him, speechless at what Will had just said. "That was the way to the Underworld."

"I gathered."

"And you just _ignored_ it?"

"You needed help! Your hands were slipping to the floor, but when I took them, suddenly they were solid again! I couldn't just _leave_!"

"But—Will, it might never show up again. You might be trapped here forever."

Will stared—this was apparently news to him—but he quickly regained composure, and with it, a bright smile. "Worth it."

"This is serious—"

"You're right, it is. You could have died. _I'm_ already dead. Whatever happens…"

"You could become a restless spirit—a monster of your own," Nico said. Why was his voice breaking at this? He shouldn't be so emotional over this. "Even if you don't, I'm not worth eternally wandering the mortal realm as a ghost."

"You really think so?"

Nico opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, Will crept across the couch, pressing their legs together. The sudden contact cut off the flow of Nico's thoughts as warmth flooded his body. It was more than Will's body—and how was a ghost so warm?—but the intensity in his eyes, the pain at Nico's self-deprecation and something else, that spark Nico had just seen moments before.

Mesmerized by Will's gaze, Nico was barely aware that he was still moving until one of his hand was brushing up hesitantly against Nico's cheek. Until Will bent closer, and sealed their lips together.

His kiss was a little awkward, especially considering their position, and it held more passion than skill—hesitant, almost exploring, in a way Nico hadn't been kissed in _years_. But _Gods_, there was passion in the urgency with which Will pressed himself against him, and Nico succumbed to it, letting him closer, letting him in. It had been a while since he'd been kissed, and he was fairly sure none of his exes had ever kissed him like _that_.

When Will pulled away—only slightly, reluctantly—they were both out of breath. _A ghost out of breath, now that's a funny image_. "As I said, it was worth it. I don't care about the consequences."

In any other circumstances—if they hadn't been so _close_, if Nico's nerves hadn't all been tingling—he might have laughed at his brashness. Instead, he was speechless, and he hated that. So he did the first thing that crossed his mind, hooked a hand in Will's hair and pulled him closer for another kiss.

This time, he took control, guiding Will's lips and tongue with his, and guiding Will's body with his hands and legs as he settled more comfortably on the couch, with the other boy on top of him. He was responsive to every touch, every hint of movement; pliant under Nico's wordless commands; moving with enthusiasm restrained only by nervousness; and Nico loved it all.

There were stars in Will's eyes when they parted again, his smile radiant even as Nico's hand moved caressed his back and elicited a visible shiver through his entire body. Breathlessly, he said, "That went well." Nico chuckled as Will caught his breath, and added, "Please tell me I didn't fuck up _too_ much."

"You didn't fuck up." Nico kept his gaze locked with Will's, deciphering layer after layer of emotion. "That was your first kiss, wasn't it?"

"That obvious?" He paused, as if expecting a mockery, but Nico knew better than to press on someone's insecurities. "Yeah. And I'm dead. How ridiculous is that?"

"It's not," Nico said, reaching a hand to cup Will's face. "It's kind of cute."

"So… now what?"

Nico was tempted to say 'bedroom, now', but Will's hesitation made him reconsider. If that was his first kiss, then he might not be ready to have sex just yet. And Nico wasn't _desperate_ to get laid, no matter what Hazel might say. "How about you get off me? Some of us need to eat."

"Right. Sorry." Will pushed himself to his feet, and offered Nico his hand to get up too—which Nico took, after a moment of hesitation which he hoped Will hadn't noticed. "I can make you something, if you want?"

"I—" Nico glanced at the damage the spider's leaps had caused to the kitchen, then at the clock. "Do you know if you can leave the apartment?"

"Yeah. It's not easy, but I can."

"We could have lunch somewhere. Together, I mean. Unless it's too difficult, I don't want to—"

"No, that's fine." Will's eyes were shining at the offer—maybe an exaggerated response, but Nico supposed a dead person had every right to be emotional.

_Gods, he's dead, and I kissed him. And now I'm taking him out for lunch_. Odd might be a regular occurrence for a demigod, but this was still out of the ordinary. But he was the Ghost Prince, so maybe it was fitting for him to go on a date with a ghost.


End file.
